SA was ok.
I met a new guy tonight, a university professor, and he is my clear intellectual superior. That’s a good thing by the way.
My sponsor was attentive for a few moments. “You have a job.”
“You are to write a complete sexual history from the time you were aware of what see was to tonight. This will help you on step 1. Do this on your computer. Put it in a file and lock it down. Nobody gets to see it. If your wife doesn’t know it now, she doesn’t get to from here.”
Ok, I’ve done a full disclosure. She goes t know all of the bloody details, but she knows what happened.
“Great. She hears no more then. She doesn’t understand what you’re going through and any more info could damage things beyond repair.”
Ok. Will do.
“We’ll talk about it in 2 weeks.”
Cool. I can do that. I’m not w a rly looming forward to it. He told me to include the bloody details. He also told me to figure out how much time and money I’ve spent on my addiction over the last year. THAT will suck. It’s a lot and I’m not looking forward to that. But it shall be done.
Whatever it takes.
If he tells me to give it to my bride, I’ll give it. If he says read it to her, I’ll read it.
Whatever it takes.
Social Hour was actually quite nice. It was the professor, my sponsor, the priest who’s church we meet at (also an addict) and myself. The prof and I talked a lot. I’m wanting to get my PhD and he was very encouraging. “Come down to campus and I’ll make done tea and show you around.”
I’ll do that.
Interestingly enough, I was the least educated guy at the table. Everyone has their PhD but me. I only have a masters degree. Again, I like this. It’s good to get your ass kicked around sometimes. It keeps you sharp. Plus I like to hang out with the smart guys. It gives me something to shoot for.
Home Time was ok too. My bride and I had a nice conversation before trundling off to bed. Then she freaking hit me in the nose with something.
“How is it that you wrote this nice post last night about putting God at the center of our marriage and when we went to church, you acted like you would’ve liked to be anywhere but there?”
My initial reaction, as she started to ask, was to get defensive. “How is it…” Perked my ears. But then I listened to the rest of the question. The way she said it disarmed me.
‘I had a headache,’ was my initial response.
We talked about church and I finally told her that I cannot stand THAT church. We agreed to loom elsewhere.
I mentioned to her that Sunday is the day when we are traditionally physically intimate.
“Sorry” was her answer. She had a smile on her face.
‘Do you know what you just did?’
“I guess not.”
‘You just turned me down with a smile on your face.’
“I’m sorry, that was f very nice of me.”
‘No, actually I appreciated that. You didn’t mess around with a decision. Usually you clam up and just sit there. I knew your answer in less than a second. Annnnd you weren’t nasty about it.’
MAYBE she’s getting past the “I don’t want to turn you down and hurt your feelings” crap. That always ends up hurting my feelings.
‘Can we have sex?’
:::silently lies there:::
‘Hello? Are you going to answer me?’
She’ll either give in and give me a HJ or say a reluctant “sorry, I can’t.” And the rejection takes a few minutes at least.
Tonight she blew me off quickly. If you’re going to reject me, please do it quickly so I don’t have time to get bitter because you’re rejecting me. It saves time and possible animosity.
It’s possible we just grew a little tonight.
Crazy how being refused a HJ made me feel like a real person.
My shitty day actually ended on a positive note. Through a rejection.
Make any sense??
It doesn’t to me either but it happened.